Arcanespring
by FRANZAKERS
Summary: Arthas Menethil. Jaina Proudmoore. Kael'Thas Sunstrider. Sylvanas Windrunner. Each of these figures of famous(or rather infamous) renown each met a man that made an impact in their lives before each of them made an impact to the world of Azeroth. That man was called Arcanespring. And now after years of disappearance he has returned. Oh poor Azeroth he has returned.


I

Kael'Thas Sunstrider's footfalls were that of a tired person; heavy, forced and torturously tiresome. The former prince of Quel'Thalas glared at the manacles attached to his shins, the end of those contraptions were large iron spheres that were damningly heavy, adding to that were magical inscriptions and runes that radiated a faint, but potent aura nonetheless. And the purpose of the aura is to restrict Kael of his magical abilities. He found it ironic that the aura radiated by the inscriptions on the spheres is quite pleasant at first, the manacles restrained his magic but it also had the pleasing side effect of curbing his thirst for it. Though all the comfort he took from this freedom from his addiction was quickly erased when the physical discomfort caused by the weight of the spheres ailed him, much to his annoyance and to the pleasure of the guards that escorted him. On his hands were cuffs with similar effect to the manacles he dragged by his feet but at least it is not as uncomfortable as the iron spheres. This made Kael tired, but this is not the only thing that made him feel so.

He is tired of living his life, first the destruction of the Sunwell by the hands of someone he calls his brother, then came the pitiful state that he and his Blood Elves had regressed into and finally, his so-called 'fall from grace'. The blood elf did not consider himself fallen from grace, he considered the actions he took—and the actions the other races condemned—are drastic but ultimately needed in the survival of his own race, all for his people. The loyal followers that followed Kael to outland say that it is a noble goal, the former prince of Quel'Thalas call it his responsibility as their leader.

A harsh push from one of the guards made him realize that he stopped in his tracks in his contemplation, with a barely audible groan, Kael walked onwards.

_ At least my pitiful existence will finally come to an end_, he thought sulkily, _and along with it, the responsibility to my people._

He had no doubts that he is in the magical city of Dalaran. Kael is blindfolded before he arrived here but the magic that permeated the air is a dead giveaway to where he is, the blood elf might have his ability to channel magic restricted but his racial heritage made him sense the heavy arcane air that no other city could have produced, no other city except this one; the flying city ruled by the Kirin Tor. And he's obviously aware that this is the last place that would be graced—disgraced more likely—by his presence.

The agonizing trek finally ended when the guards led him to a large hall, upon setting his foot on the court the crowd of onlookers erupted into uproar. Jeering him, cursing his name and that of his father and the Sunstriders before him, one furious-looking orc even casted a frostfire bolt in his direction. The projectile made of flame and frost barely reached him, Kael knew that the aura radiated by his cuffs and manacles works both ways.

_These enchantments restrict me from using magic but,_ he thought as the frostfire bolt dissipated upon reaching contact with the aura of his manacles, _no magic of any form could come near me._

Then the orc had this moment of shock, as is most of the crowd surrounding him then they jeered again, louder and brasher this time. To Kael's surprise, the anger wasn't only directed at him, the orc also raged at the mages seated on a high terrace overlooking the whole hall. The former prince finally decided to divert his attention to the ones who held the power in this proceeding, or in this execution to be precise.

Standing on the terrace was the mage named Rhonin, the current Archmage and a man that easily commanded the elf's respect. He is, after all, a legend for all intents and purposes. Kael felt oddly honored that he's the one presiding over his judgment, a mage of staggering power is only fit to be persecuted at the hands of another mage of such ability. The elf's eyes carefully scanned each man and woman in the terrace, gauging them, measuring their worth. None of them matched the power wielded by Rhonin, nor Kael's, though that's understandable, how else could Rhonin command their loyalty and respect then? His eyes skimmed over the others there as well, and to his utter shock, she was there.

Standing near the back of the terrace, slightly hidden from probing eyes, was Jaina Proudmoore.

He bowed his head, suddenly remembering their younger years—well younger to Jaina at least. He was already at the age of thousands when he and the human sorceress met; she for her training in the arcane arts, and he to refine his own knowledge and serve as a liaison to the mages of the Kirin Tor and his people. The high elves, after all, pride themselves as masters of the arcane. All of that happened years ago, and Kael could not bring himself to look at the face of his former friend; afraid and ashamed to see her wrath, her disappointment, and—possibly—her sadness. So many things happened in the span of the years from before and now. The fall of his race, the trials he endured for the blood elves, and finally . . . to his desperate collaboration with the Betrayer.

The sound of staff hitting stone was heard all over the court, the mages on the terrace forcefully tapping the stone floor they're standing three times in synchrony. Each tap drowning the noises of the hall until the crowd of mages only protested with their eyes, the Archmage demanded silence and silence was what he got. Kael can't feel something more ominous than the silence as he was apparently made to stand near the terrace, his head still bowed in what may look like as a resigned manner.

The trial for Kael'Thas Sunstrider, former Prince of Quel'Thalas, has begun.

The current Archmage of the Kirin Tor cleared his throat before he spoke: "We are here today to judge these two sorcerers for their horrendous crimes inflicted in its people, and Azeroth itself" Rhonin paused and the roar of the crowd began anew, much more louder than the jeers that welcomed the former prince on his arrival.

_Wait, two?!_

Kael's green eyes opened wide, his head snapping up to look at the terrace then to his left, and quickly to his right—only to spot another mage, standing there beside him, and also awaiting the judgment of the mage council of Dalaran.

Looking at his fellow "criminal", Kael guessed that this mage must command a mastery of magic at the same—or probably higher—level than his. The mage was dressed in attire similar to his in some aspects; simple black shoulder pads with numerous feathers of varying colors tucked underneath them as ornaments hold a long dark gray cape that touched the granite floor of the hall like water. Like him, the mage had his hands bound by magic dampening shackles, though the shackles were placed on black sleeves. The last, and probably the most attention-grabbing aspect of this mage was the gray hood that shadowed an unusual mask, a smooth surface with perfectly circular holes as the only features. The way the man tilted his head downward shadowed the inside of his mask, showing little of the eyes the man has.

"Kael'Thas Sunstrider" the mage said, his tone light; a contrast to the man's outfit.

The prince raised one blonde brow. He was not surprised that the man knew of him. Fel, he would be more surprised if he _didn't_ know the infamous 'power-hungry' and 'corruption-drunk' blood elf. Then the crowds silenced as three taps were heard again.

"Along with me here are representatives from the Alliance and the Horde" the Archmage said, his loud voice hiding the annoyance the man clearly felt. Kael'Thas smirked, the Kirin Tor still holds to their belief of 'neutrality' against all odds.

_I'm sure their getting a whole lot of bad reputation on both sides for not siding to either._

Kael drowned out the other pleasantries that the Archmage said while making sure that his disinterest is shown on his pale face. He wants to show to the Kirin Tor that no love was lost between him and their damnable organization. Most of all, the former prince was annoyed about this execution of his. He has long resigned that he will face death, no escaping from it this time, yet the Kirin Tor was making a big unnecessary fuss over it.

"Today we sentence to their deaths these two criminals who wield magic with recklessness and irresponsibility, and that recklessness and irresponsibility caused the deaths of many and the destruction of cities" the Archmage cleared his throat and eyed the two of them, Kael mostly. "The first is Kael'Thas Sunstrider, former prince and heir to the throne of Quel'Thalas, charged with allying himself to Illidan Stormrage, the Betrayer and by consorting himself and those who follow him to the vile demons of the Burning Legion"—the Archmage took a serious tone, his anger hidden well—"and by endangering his very own race just to keep his thirst for mana sated"

The jeers came again, louder this time and tinged by the crowd's wish for his blood or his head. Sometimes they asked for both. Kael noted with a dark amusement that the archmage did not bother to stop the crowd this time. Rhonin was openly glaring at him while some of the council mages at the terrace joined the crowd like a bunch of heathens. Kael didn't see Jaina anywhere but he's sure that he wasn't proud of him by any means.

"The second is Francis Arcanespring" the archmage said, quieting the crowd. "A former mage of the Kirin Tor, one of our own, and our greatest failure; he may not be known but this man has been the sole prisoner of Dalaran for years. He is charged for the second destruction of Dalaran, an event we carefully kept hidden, and for the—"

The archmage went on in the crimes of the man, but Kael has stopped listening. He was only looking in shock at the gray-clad mage standing beside him. One might think that this is because of what this man did but no, this is of a more personal matter to Kael'Thas Sunstrider, and not just him. If he was here, Arthas Menethil would have a reaction akin to Kael's.

_Jaina would too_, he thought, _Jaina . . ._

"Hey Kael" Francis said, "I told you to trust me, right?"

And down went the prince to the memories of better times.

…

Prince Kael'Thas Sunstrider, prince and heir to Quel'Thalas frowned at his unfortunate situation. He even found himself confused at how he found himself to be in this situation. The stack of books wavered, and Kael quickly focused on maintaining his balance or else the stack of books would make a big mess in the streets of Dalaran. The books were taller than an ogre!

"You're going to study all of these?" Kael asked his companion, who was also burdened by a stack of books nearly as tall as the one he carried.

"What?" Francis replied incredulously, nearly tilting sideway just by the sheer weight of the books he's carrying. "Do you really think I study, Kael?" he asked back.

Kael just raised a confused brow, while he is not exactly experienced with menial labors such as this—what with being royalty and all. His _slightly_ fit physicality somehow lessens the trouble. Francis on the other hand was totally scrawny, a byproduct of his friend's utter devotion to learning magic, something that fascinates most high elves and other mages, especially when their parents berate them that a human is more adept in the arcane arts than a superior elf. This is what Kael liked most about his friend, aside from his pleasing personality that is.

_Oh wow, now I'm learning human sarcasm_, he thought to himself with a frown.

"So if you're not studying these tomes" he righted the book stack, "Then why are we carrying these?"

"My good friend, Kael" he started, giving him that infamous smile befitting of a rogue than a mage. "Aren't we doing this for the woman you love the most?"

Kael's stack of books fell forward, toppled by Kael's complete incredulous reaction to his friend's reasoning. Several people saw what happened, probably surprised why the prince of Quel'Thalas is sprawled on the street.

"What happened?!" Kael nearly provided a particularly witty retort when he realized that it wasn't Francis who asked, it was a soft feminine voice, not Francis' snarky one. Looking up, Kael nearly fell back to the street when he saw who it was. Gold colored hair that flowed just a little below her shoulders was the most distinguishable feature, milky white skin somewhat akin to a sin'dorei's but—to Kael's befuddlement—more fitting to this woman, it just made her infinitely more beautiful than Kael's own race. Then the woman's eyes—_by the sunwell her eyes!_—were as blue as the bluest of seas. Then the woman smiled, maybe because of the dumbfounded look he's giving her.

"Quite studious aren't you, Prince Kael" Jaina Proudmoore stated while helping him pick up the books. The prince didn't reply, by then he thought that he didn't need to though he belatedly realized that he was just too awestruck to reply. So they worked in silence, the prince of Quel'Thalas too engrossed in his own thoughts and to the sheer beauty of his companion that he didn't notice a grinning Francis looking at him with tearful approval.

"Well that's the last of it" Jaina said, putting the last tome at the top of the third stack. Unlike Kael and Francis, the human sorceress-in-training piled the books three times and she had chidingly advised Kael to take it easy while she had jested with Francis, who was obviously regretting his decision of stacking up his tomes too high, much to the amusement of the princess of Theramore.

"Yeah, that's the last of it" Francis agreed, his voice strained from standing still with his stack of books in his arm. Kael can relate and he felt sorry for his friend.

"See you guys later, then!" Jaina said cheerfully, waving at them before walking towards the direction where the two men came from. Kael's eyes were still fixated on the woman when he heard Francis chuckle.

"Hey Kael" his friend was sporting a smile of amusement, that kind of smile that Francis shows when he has accomplished a prank or other mischievous activities.

"What?" Kael asked, carefully picking the first of the three stacks.

"I told you to trust me, right?" he asked, a certain twinkle in his eyes.

The two youngsters laughed as they went on their way.

…

Now, as Kael stared at his friend in silent surprise, he wondered if that certain twinkle in his eyes was still present. The twinkle that Kael learned was an indication that he has accomplished something of great—or oftentimes ridiculous—importance. Then Francis laughed, Kael didn't notice that his laugh was loud until the whole hall was silent, looking at him and his friend with confusion. The former prince can't blame them though as he was also confused at why a man, even someone as weird as Francis, could laugh richly in the face of death.

_Unless he has an escape plan of some sorts,_ the prince thought, _but that's just ridiculous ..._

"Silence!" it wasn't the voice of Rhonin's but of another mage in the terrace, a fat and portly man more fit to be a corrupt noble or their ilk than a mage of the Kirin Tor. The smile plastered on Kael's face was all but unnoticeable when he saw this curious case of a mage as Francis' laugh turned into a shoulder-shaking chuckle.

"Wow" Francis drawled, "Don't tell me **laughing** is also a crime?"

Kael's smile grew wider upon seeing the reactions of the mages on the terrace; some were glaring at the masked man, some were shouting obscenities and various cusses concerning excrement at him, and some, like the archmage, were simply frowning at Francis' behavior. He also didn't fail to notice that Jaina rolled her eyes. The various reactions of the mages conducting the trial were also reflected by the crowd, though confusion is more widespread than anger or annoyance.

"Perhaps he's going mad" the fat mage hissed, "His coming death may have snapped his mind" the fat mage added in an explanatory and haughty tone.

"Perhaps" he said in a dismissive manner, as if the state of his mind was a matter of little importance.

_If he's still the same man I know ten years ago then I'm in for something incredible or ridiculous_, he said to himself thoughtfully as Francis turned to look at him. _Maybe something that is a mixture of both. _

"I'm sure you're wondering where I am for this past ten years, buddy" he said chuckling.

"Of course, the same thing can't be said for me, though"

"Yeah, you caused quite a stir in Outland, Kael"

"'Quite a stir' is a mild way of putting it" he said and the two of them laughed, further confusing the crowd by what they've heard. Murmurs and gossips were loud, wondering on the relationship between the hated blood elf and this mysterious prisoner of the Kirin Tor.

"Enough" the archmage stated, tapping the staff three times for silence. "Let us continue the proceedings"

"Why are you in such a hurry, Archmage?" Francis asked, "We aren't going anywhere, are we?"

Naturally, the archmage was suspicious as are the mages with him and even Jaina, that much is obvious from his position. He also didn't fail to notice that the attention was shifted from him to his friend, whether this was intentional or a matter of coincidence Kael doesn't know.

Though he knew one thing and it brought a smile to his lips.

_My annoying bastard of a friend has a plan_

…

Those thoughts didn't only run in the former prince's mind. Up in the terrace, the ruler of Theramore Isle also has her own suspicions. She knew Francis well as she, like Kael'Thas Sunstrider, was a close friend of his and she knew by first-hand experience that Francis can be very cunning if he wants to be. Kael was the usual subject of Francis' attentions and even though his intentions are good most of the time, the end result is usually a laughable or embarrassing situation, not only for Kael but for Jaina as well. Even after she had confessed to the two of them that she has harbored feelings for the then-Prince Arthas since they were kids, Francis still stubbornly refused to put a stop to his notorious jests and pranks. Kael took all of this in stride, while Francis on the other hand, showed his dissatisfaction openly though he has no objections, Jaina loved them both for that but he loved Francis like a brother. And she had suspicions about these seemingly 'failed' plans of his. She had noticed back then that even if his plan looked like it didn't work the twinkle in Francis' eyes says otherwise.

_If my suspicions proved to be correct,_ she thought,_ then Francis possesses far more cunning than he lets on._

"He's planning something, Archmage!" Jaina turned to see that it was that fat bootlicker named Horatian that exclaimed. Jaina scowled. She hated Horatian for a good many reasons, and the primary reason was that he was the one that condemned Francis eight years ago, many have forgotten that little fact but she never did. She only heard the official news but even that soured her mood.

The Kirin Tor had sent a letter to her at Theramore Isle in the most ill of a timing she could have imagined. It was after the coup that killed her father, and she had opened it with red-rimmed eyes. Before that message arrived, another message, one that came from the Alliance about the newly renamed Blood Eves' defection to the forces of the rogue night elf named Illidan. She had cried for her father earlier that day and she had cried again for Kael's fall. And for the third time that day she cried, that time for Francis who was convicted for the _second_ destruction of Dalaran and the reason, the message says, was that Francis was an accomplice of the traitorous blood elven prince and destroyed Dalaran on Kael's _orders_. Just by reading how it was written, Jaina knew that what was written to her was false. Francis can't be _ordered_ by Kael, and Kael knew better than to order Francis.

_They were best friends for light's sake!_

"Of course I'm planning something, Horatian" was Francis' sarcastic retort, "Though I assure you, Archmage, it has nothing to do with . . . escape"

Rhonin, for his part, just frowned and narrowed his eyes at the masked man.

"Kael, if you don't mind me asking, how's Outland?" he asked all of a sudden, and all eyes, including those of the unusually silent crowd, were on him. Then Kael's eyes widened briefly, trying to hide the shock that came with the realization. Jaina didn't fail to notice that too and she immediately became wary.

_Those two are on to something,_ she thought.

"Ah, not quite the best place for a vacation, I suppose" then he mischievously smiled at his friend. "But it has visit-worthy locations"

"Well then . . ." Francis began, the guards and even some of the members of the current council of six tensed.

Jaina's eyes widened, and also Kael's and also every other being in the hall as Francis severed the chain that linked his magic dampening shackles in an easy manner. Then, in obvious disinterest to the matters around him, he proceeded to inspect the runic inscriptions on the shackles by moving the shackles on his right arm closer to those ominous holes in his mask for examination while his other hand traced along the etchings.

"Quite interesting" he muttered, though everyone heard him say that thanks to the silence that he accidentally, or even intentionally, caused.

As if Francis' voice lifted a curse, the scenario in the hall became livid. The archmage and other members of the council of six ordered different things at almost the same time; Rhonin demanded order, Horatian demanded Francis death, and the other four demanded him captured. Jaina herself seemingly awoke from a daze. Never in her wildest imagination did she expect Francis to escape. No, she expected and, in a little way, even _hoped_ that Francis would escape but she didn't think of him to escape in that manner.

"Capture him!" Horatian seemed wanting to capture him not kill him now, apparently. "He cannot cast any spells with those shackles still on him!" another mage reasoned.

In the end, Francis—along with Kael—was surrounded by an assortment of guards, Dalaran mages, and a couple of adventurers. Said adventurers were blood elves, both females and one had silver hair, the other one with the common blood elven gold. To Jaina's surprise, both of them were holding melee weapons not staves. The silver-haired one carried a sword and was holding it in a stance towards Francis while the golden haired one carried a dagger in each hand and in a stance like a hunting cat waiting to pounce. There were five mages clad in dalaran mage robes that surrounded him, preparing different spells, all offensive. Then there were two guardsmen, Jaina presumed they were the ones stationed outside the hall, they were pointing the sharp ends of spears towards Francis. Yet for some reason, they gave Francis, and by extension Kael who was standing beside him, a pretty wide berth for someone that needs to be captured.

Francis, for his part, was still investigating the shackles with interest. He didn't even look at the people surrounding him.

"Jaina" he called and the sorceress immediately whipped her head to his direction as the other mages' and the crowd's heads whipped to _her_ direction.

"What?" she asked, growing uncertain to why Francis was acting so . . . eccentric.

Francis stopped inspecting the shackles and looked at her, "I believe you to be the only woman in this room that would listen to me".

Jaina nodded, albeit hesitantly and Francis chuckled.

"What do you want to say?" Jaina asked tentatively. As soon as she had phrased her question, every man and woman in the hall waited for what Francis has to say.

"Nevermind, it's just good to see you!" he laughed and Jaina was sure that every man and woman in the hall didn't expect the sudden change of tone.

"Now that my business is concluded here" Francis clapped his hands, "I think I shall take my leave"

Every living creature in the room tensed after he said those words, and Jaina was surprised that even the archmage was tensed, made obvious by the fireball in his free hand. Rhonin was a good man, but he apparently believed that Francis was the one who destroyed Dalaran for the second time.

Then Francis stopped inspecting his cuffs and calmly walked to his still-shackled best friend. But the men and women surrounding him wouldn't let him get close.

Five different spells of varying levels of power surged towards his position and Jaina gasped. She could sense even in her position that each spell, even if their power levels vary, are all devastating. The kind of spells that are used on large monsters and powerful beings, the kind of spells that are lobbed at beings like the Betrayer before he was vanquished by those said spells. And these kinds of spells were thrown at her friend.

Everyone was in for a shock, however, as the spells didn't even reach the "criminal" named Francis Arcanespring. The man just continued walking towards Kael as the spells struck, or more likely fizzled before they can even reach him, Jaina's eyes widened in sheer amazement when she realized that the cuffs negate _any_ spell that comes within range with it. He stopped in his tracks, to Jaina it looks as if he just noticed that he was attacked.

He looked slowly around the hall; his head meeting every gaze sent his way and he gazed at the people in response. Jaina found herself flinching when his gaze passed her.

Then he laughed.

It was a hearty laugh, not mocking not maniacal nor hysterical. It was as if somebody told him a very good joke. It was Francis' normal laughter yet it was so out of place and that made it very unnerving.

"The Kirin Tor never fails to amuse me" he said as he finally stopped laughing.

"What?!" was Horatian's indignant reply, the fat man's portly face as red as chili in his anger. The other mages on the terrace has similar replies, except the archmage and Jaina. The former was as stony as ever while the latter was still dumbstruck to the show her friend was putting on.

He clapped his hands, "Well, that's all for now!" he walked towards Kael—who was as dumbstruck as Jaina—and inspected his cuffs. "Me and my good buddy here are gonna go"

The two blood elves have other thoughts, however. A sword moved to ran him through while two daggers descend on his neck.

None of it struck him.

Everybody in the hall was surprised, as if that's the only emotion that is permitted in this place. Francis has showed them many reasons to be shocked and awed, and this new event was not an exception. In fact it was probably the most shocking event thus far. Jaina stared in horror as the warrior's sword skewered the rogue, both of the combatants looked horrified at what happened. Francis was standing in the middle of them but it wouldn't even matter if he wasn't. The blade passed through his body but it didn't even touched him, as if there was nothing under that black cloak, as if it was just a cloth and it was covering nothing at all. But that was seemingly impossible as made obvious by his legs. There was only one explanation.

"H-He's incorporeal!" the voice of the archmage shocked Jaina more than what happened in the hall below them. Rhonin, archmage of the Kirin Tor, has lost his impassivity and was replaced by horrified surprise. Francis flicked a careless glanced at the man then at the two blood elves before he went back to Kael, who was as surprised as the others.

The golden-haired elf fell to the floor, Jaina was sure—and glad—that she was still alive. The blood elf's companion rushed to meet her as she fell to the floor, tears falling from her eyes. But that scene didn't last though as she rose from her kneeling and ran to strike Francis, who was currently in a fuss over Kael's shackles. Like before, the slash that was made to cut the black-clad mage into two just passed him.

But it struck something else.

Kael'thas Sunstrider stood tall, the manacles in his hands accidentally broken by the silver-haired elf's attack. Like his friend before him, Kael also studied his shackles. "It's a fine design, isn't it?" he asked Francis.

"Yeah" he nodded, "I wonder if I can replicate it …"

That did it, the room dissolved into chaos as every mage in the room threw spells at the two escaped convicts in obvious panic and desperation. Horatian and some of the other mages in the council also threw their spells, and even the Archmage looked like he was ready to throw the almost gigantic fireball in his free hand. He ultimately quelled it. Jaina knew that Rhonin understood the situation. The multitude of spells that were aimed at Kael and Francis met in a spectacular light show that produced smoke that obscured their vision and a massive shockwave, some of the mages in the lower section of the amphitheater-like-hall were flung by the sheer force while the mages in the terrace stood resolutely, though Jaina was sure that Horatian was ready to topple over any minute now.

As the smoke thinned, Jaina spotted two silhouettes. Revealing that her two idiotic excuses for friends were alive, she can't help but sigh. But when the smoke was thinned enough, it revealed that Francis has one of his hands raised, a fairly large magical barrier over them and Jaina could see that his scrawny arms were strained and shaking. Kael was looking at him, concern in his green eyes. Upon seeing this some of the mages in hall prepared more spells, Jaina on the other hand was confused and worried.

_Why would he raise a barrier when he's completely untouchable with those manacles on?_ She asked herself.

"STOP!" the Archmages's voice washed over the silence, making some of the onlookers look at him in confusion, their spells wavering back into mana. "You'll hit the others!"

Jaina's eyes widened, finally realizing why Francis erected a barrier. He looked at the contents of the barriers and was greeted by the sight of the cowering mages, cowering guards and the two blood elves that tried to attack her friend. The shock was evident in each of their faces, more so on the two blood elves. Then the crowd devolved into a mess of heated arguments and outrage, many of them shouting at the Archmage and the council. The council yelled back.

Meanwhile, the main cause of all this chaos fell to his knees with a thud. Alarmed, Jaina nearly teleported to where he was, but found out that he was alright; helped to his feet by his blood elven best friend. Kael looked as worried as her. Francis whispered something in the prince's ears and his eyes widened incredulously and he gave Francis a disbelieving stare, the latter only nodding vigorously. Jaina's eyes almost popped out of her head when Kael raised his still manacled arms and cast a spell, the sickly green of fell magic coalesced into two circular seals on top of the two of them and on the ground where they were standing. Even if the magic used was different, Jaina was sure it was a teleportation circle.

"They're escaping!" Horatian yelled, but it wasn't heard over the din of noises. Then Kael and Francis looked at her, a sad and apologetic smile on Kael's face before the two of them vanished into light.


End file.
